


Prisoner

by Paradox23



Category: Warcraft, World of Warcraft
Genre: Dominance, Gen, Humiliation, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-05 21:53:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradox23/pseuds/Paradox23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is imprisoned here just as surely as he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prisoner

As always, he doesn't bother to raise his head when she enters; it's only the rise and fall of his chest that tells her he's still alive. She wraps her hands around the ends of the chains and pulls down hard, jerking him to his feet, then keeps pulling until he has staggered to the center of the cell, his arms stretched over his head.

The chains that run from his shackles through the massive iron ring in the ceiling of his cell make it so convenient that she wonders if they were put there for this very purpose.

He bares his teeth, but she sneers at the incipient ridge in his leggings and rubs it with the edge of her weapon. As he hisses and turns his head away anger swells in her, the need to humiliate this prisoner who traps her here, who trampled so many in his attempt to impress the High Priestess.  
  
She blinks behind him, and with a dagger in each hand slices his leggings away, his growl of outrage sweet, so sweet to hear. She tosses away the remainder of his clothes, and while she considers her options he demands, "Just get it over with… that is, if you're _man_ enough."  
  
Without thinking she swings her arm and slaps his backside hard enough that he almost loses his footing. As he twists to regain it she sees his male organ, now swollen, and the sight disgusts and enrages her. She hits him again and again, a faint green glow marking the imprint of her hand on his demonic flesh. She strikes him until her palm is stinging and her arm tired, but she does not stop until she hears him groan and sees his spurt seed onto the floor.  
  
"Animal," she says, then forces herself to walk out of the Barrow and out into the night, past Naisha's worried look: once out of sight she sprints to an ice-rimmed pool and plunges into the water, sitting with her arms and legs spread wide, willing herself not to move until the searing cold water has, once again, burned her quivering flesh to ice.

 


End file.
